


Odds & Ends

by RubyIntyale



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Cuddlefucking, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Making Out, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 13:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyIntyale/pseuds/RubyIntyale
Summary: Ficlets and snippets. All originally posted on Tumblr.





	1. Afternoon Naps

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I *finally* got round to archiving all my little scraps of writing. Each chapter is a standalone ficlet. All Armie/Timmy. Enjoy :)

“Tim?” Armie knocked gently on each door as he passed, keeping his voice quiet. Their break had been longer than expected, but now Luca wanted to start again and Timmy was missing. Armie had taken on the task of finding him.

The door to one of the upstairs bedrooms was open slightly. The costume department had taken it over a week into filming, filling it with clothes rails and various props. The bed had been moved to one side and covered with a sheet, replaced with a large yellow sofa for the cast and crew to relax on. 

That sofa was currently occupied by Timmy, curled up on his side and fast asleep. Armie stood in the doorway, smiling at the sight before him. Timmy had stripped out of his Elio clothes and snuggled up in Billowy instead, wrapping it around himself like a blanket. The sleeves covered his hands and it was far too long for him, covering him down to mid thigh. 

“Tim,” Armie closed the door behind him, sat down carefully on the end of the sofa, “wake up, baby. We need to start shooting again.”

Timmy frowned, burying his face further into the cushions. 

Armie placed a warm hand on his thigh, “Wake up time, come on,” he jostled Timmy a bit.

Timmy sighed heavily. “Lay down with me,” he didn’t open his eyes, just moved back to give Armie more room. 

Armie chuckled as he stroked Timmy’s leg, “Luca’s looking for you.”

“Hugs first.”

Resistance was never really an option when Timmy was involved. Armie lay down against the backrest, brought Timmy close up against him with both arms. He stroked Timmy’s back with one hand, up under Billowy, relishing the warmth and softness of his skin, each little bump of his spine. 

Timmy nuzzled his chest, making happy little noises every time Armie touched him. Their kisses were soft and sweet. Timmy lifted his leg and draped it over Armie’s hip. 

“Careful,” Armie warned, “we’re going back downstairs in a minute.”

Timmy pouted, pressing his already hard cock against Armie’s stomach, “But I’ve missed you.”

“Hmm. I can tell,” Armie squeezed his ass, “do you wanna stay over tonight?”

Timmy nodded, kissed him again. Armie reached down to cup him through his boxers. He ran his fingertips along Timmy’s length, moaning when Timmy’s cock twitched, lifting up to meet his touch. 

“Need to come,” Timmy mouthed at his throat, “please, Armie? I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“You’re never quiet,” Armie brushed their noses together, “and we need to go back.”

Timmy huffed, pulled his underwear down and started stroking himself. He gazed up at Armie with wide, innocent eyes.  _ Ooops. Look what happened.  _ Armie licked his lips, mesmerised as he watched Timmy’s flushed head sliding in and out of his fist. 

“Tell me about tonight,” Timmy bit his lip, “tell me everything you wanna do with me.”

Armie’s cock throbbed. He moaned at Timmy’s words, rolling them around and around in his mind. He pressed between Timmy’s cheeks, fingers circling his tight entrance. “I think I,” he swallowed, pausing for dramatic effect, “I think I wanna taste this sweet little peach.”

Timmy whimpered, stroked himself faster, “Fuck, Armie. Please.”

They hadn’t done that yet, but Armie had teased him with it mercilessly. He knew the thought of having his mouth down there drove Timmy wild. 

“Fuuuuck,” Timmy writhed, rolling his hips, “Now. Do it here. Need you.”

Armie shook his head, still dipping his fingers in and out of Timmy’s hole, “You think I’m gonna eat your ass right here? On set? When anyone could walk through that door?”

Timmy groaned as he came, dribbling all over his stomach, Armie’s shirt, the sofa. “Umm,” he looked down, sheepish as he came around, “sorry.”

Armie laughed as he kissed him, brushing sweaty curls off his face. 

“Look who I found!” Armie announced as they walked through the door, “This one was upstairs taking a nap with the props.” Timmy yawned on cue, leaning into Armie’s side, stilly fuzzy from his nap and his orgasm. Armie could practically  _ feel  _ the collective exhale as the entire lighting department swooned, utterly besotted with their sweet, sleepy angel. He smiled slyly to himself, and tucked Timmy’s underwear into his back pocket.


	2. Billowy

New York August is stifling. Armie wipes the sweat from his brow as he ascends yet another flight of stairs. Timmy has sprung ahead like a little mountain goat, lost from Armie’s sight for several minutes now.

“Is it much further?” He calls, hoping to God that it isn’t.

“Nearly there.”

Armie huffs. His white t shirt clings.  _ Come and see my apartment!  _ Timmy had been so excited that Armie couldn’t have said no.  _ It’s a fifth floor walk up! _ Asshole.

Finally he reaches a narrow landing at the top of the stairs. Timmy is waiting further down, head tilted to the side as if to ask, ‘what took you so long?’

“It’s hot,” Armie offers.

“I have beer.”

“Good man,” Armie shoos him down the hallway, stops to take a pic while Timmy isn’t looking.  _ The New Yorker in his natural habitat. _

It’s a cool apartment. Tasteful, if a little spartan. A cosy little nook for a young guy. Armie nods as he takes it in, “This is nice, Tim. Thanks for inviting me.”

He is rewarded with a full on, toothy Timmy smile, so big it makes his eyes crinkle.

“No problem, man. I mean, I know I don’t have a pool or anything, but”

Armie shrugs to cut him off, “I was promised beer.”

“Of course,” Timmy laughs, twirling around before walking the two steps to the kitchen.

He opens the first bottle and passes it to Armie. The second explodes all over him.

“Oh shit!” Timmy giggles, soaked and frothy. Some of it is in his hair. “I’m gonna change, hang on.”

Armie shakes his head as Timmy disappears into his bedroom, sips his beer as he looks around Timmy’s space, cataloguing his impressive console collection, the nearly arranged sneakers, the thick cable knit blanket on the back of the sofa.

“Fuck, my hair is all sticky,” Timmy appears again.

Armie blinks, “Is that?”

“What? I just grabbed the first thing I” Timmy looks down at himself, “Um…”

Armie swallows, throat tight. He’d know that shirt anywhere. “You kept it.” It’s not a question.

Timmy won’t look at him. He pulls the already too long sleeves down further, engulfing himself in soft blue cotton.

Armie takes a step closer, “Tim.”

Armie’s back sticks to the sofa as he pushes up into Timmy’s tight heat, hands sliding up his slick back, under Billowy, gentle and possessive. 

Timmy leans forward to kiss him, curls tickling his face as he moans against his jaw. 

New York August really is stifling. 


	3. "If You're Curious"

“Hey, ready to go?” Armie flashed him a bright smile. His body was already turned to walk away, gesturing down the hall with his thumb. 

“Actually,” Timmy leaned against the doorframe, “I thought we could stay in. Order something,” he shrugged noncommittally, matched Armie’s smile with a slightly more heated one of his own, “if you want?”

“Oh, um, yeah, OK,” he walked past Timmy into the apartment, “aren’t you dressed to go out, though?”

Timmy hid a smirk as he closed the door. Armie hadn’t seen him in these clothes before. The slim fitting khakis were a far cry from his denim shorts and ripped jeans. He’d left a couple of buttons undone on his black shirt, rolled the short sleeves up an extra inch. Even his hair had been given some attention. In short, he looked like an  _ adult _ , the way he wanted Armie to see him. 

“Beer?”

“Please,” Armie settled himself onto the couch.

Timmy opened two bottles, clinked his own against Armie’s as he passed it over. 

“Thanks.”

They drank together, enjoying the comfortable silence. 

“You look good,” Armie said eventually, “are you sure you wanna stay in?”

Timmy stretched his arm across the backrest, “Yeah,” he opened his legs a little, wriggled his butt as if he was trying to get comfy, “This is nice. Just the two of us.”

Armie didn’t rise to the bait, quirking an eyebrow at him instead. “Where shall we order from? I’m starving.”

A small frown flitted across Timmy’s face, but he brushed it aside quickly, “I have a menu for that Greek place.”

“Fuck yes! I love that place.”

“Hang on, I’ll go find it.” He took his time in the kitchen, maybe bent down to look in a few cupboards that he didn’t  _ really  _ need to look in, hoping Armie was checking him out. “Got it,” he brandished the pamphlet with a flourish. 

Armie’s cheeks were flushed. He cleared his throat as he scanned the menu, pointedly not looking in Timmy’s direction. Timmy sat down again, smug, one leg crossed over the other. He tangled his fingers in the back of his hair, playing with his curls before letting his arm stretch out. His fingertip traced the open line of Armie’s shirt collar. Armie swallowed thickly, didn’t look up.

“I liked it, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“The kiss. On my foot.”

“Oh. Right,” Armie studied the menu. 

“I like feeling your mouth on me.”

Armie huffed, shrugged away from Tim’s travelling finger, the menu scrunched up in his hand, “What’re you doing?”

Timmy smiled at him. Slow, dark, sexy. “Nothing.”

Armie rolled his eyes, took another sip of his beer.

“Have you ever been with a guy before?”

Armie coughed, beer filling his lungs, “Jesus, Tim.”

"Sorry," Timmy traced the inseam of his trousers, not sounding remotely sorry, "does it bother you?"

"No," Armie's response was too quick, too defensive, "I wouldn't be filming a gay movie if it  _ bothered _ me."

"Bisexual," Timmy corrected, "liking dick doesn't make you gay."

Armie opened his mouth, stared at Tim, incredulous.

"I haven't had a guy in awhile," Timmy continued, opening his legs further, "I kinda miss it."

"Oh?" Armie blushed, his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, "What, um, what do you miss about it? I mean, doesn't it hurt?"

Timmy's cock started to fill out, his khakis already feeling a little tight. He licked his lips to hide his smirk. "It's a lot to take, especially the first time. But when you find a guy who knows what he's doing, fuck me," his voice dropped, low and silky, "when you get comfortable, when he's all the way inside you, it's so intense, Armie. And once he hits that sweet spot…" he trailed off, watching Armie's face. "I like to kiss while we're fucking, snuggle him close while he fills me with his dick."

Armie squirmed on the couch, knuckles white where he gripped the folded paper.

“I could show you,” Timmy let his palm rest just above Armie’s knee, “if you’re curious.”

Armie shook his head. He tried to laugh, but it came out choked. 

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” Timmy squeezed his thigh, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Fuck, this isn’t…” Armie ran his hands through his hair, “It’s acting, Tim. I was”

“The way you looked at me? After? That was you, Armie, not Oliver.”

“I was”

Timmy shushed him, shuffled closer until their lips were barely apart. He looked at Armie’s mouth, slid his hand higher up his leg, “I really want you to kiss me.”

Armie looked pained, a war raging behind his eyes before he closed them in defeat. They melted into each other, the kiss turning heated almost immediately. Timmy’s hand was soon between Armie’s legs, cupping, stroking, rubbing his thumb over Armie’s slit through cotton and thick denim. Armie gasped into his mouth, fully hard and straining into Timmy’s grip.

Timmy dragged his mouth away, pupils blown wide, “Shall we move this to the bed?”

Armie nodded, panting.

Timmy rocked back and forth, toes curling into the carpet. He smiled at Armie as he popped the button on his trousers, “Is this OK? I’m kinda strangling.”

Armie laughed, embarrassed, “Go ahead.”

Timmy wriggled out of his tight pants and kicked them away. He crawled onto the bed, flopping down onto his side, arm outstretched in invitation, “Come here.”

Armie lay facing him, still fully clothed, breathing laboured. Timmy hugged him with one arm, nudged their noses together, “It’s fine, Armie. You’re perfect. We can stop, if you want to.”

“No.”

“Can I touch you?”

“Yeah. Yes please.”

Timmy opened his jeans, his hand gradually easing inside to wrap around Armie’s length.

“Fuck, you’re big.”

Armie buried his face in the pillow. His cheek burned under Timmy’s lips, flushed warm with reticent arousal. Timmy’s hand worshipped his cock, keeping the pace torturously slow while he whispered praises, his breath damp in the safe space between them. He felt Armie tense up, and he stopped.

“Huh?” Armie’s eyes flew open, scared and hurt.

“Get on your knees, Armie. Take your pants off.”

Armie complied without hesitating. He knelt on all fours in the centre of the bed, naked from the waist down, his cock heavy and thick between his legs. Timmy settled underneath him, rolling his eyes at Armie’s quizzical expression.

“It’s a more fun way to do it.”

He sucked Armie’s dick into his mouth, relaxing his jaw to take as much as possible. Armie groaned above him, flexing his hips to push himself further. Timmy let him fuck his face, drool running down his chin as he palmed his own cock through his boxers, spurred on by the delicious sounds Armie was making. His balls were so plump, so full, so tight against his body. Timmy just  _ had  _ to.

He took his mouth off Armie’s dick and swallowed, precome thick in his throat. He moved his head back to nuzzle Armie’s balls, gauging his reaction before he took one in his mouth, sucking gently. Armie swore, leaning forward to give Timmy better access. Timmy gave his other ball the same treatment, kisses, flicks of his tongue. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin and Armie cried out, helpless. He worked his cock furiously, nice and slick with Timmy’s spit. 

“That’s it, baby,” Timmy bit his thigh, “I love watching you fall out of your shorts.”

“Gonna come,” Armie’s face twisted in pleasure, his hand a blur on his aching cock. His release splattered Timmy’s ribs and belly as he gasped for breath, barely able to stay upright. 

He slumped onto the bed on his stomach, pushed Timmy’s hand aside and tugged his cock through the slit in his underwear. His mouth was hot and wet and perfect. Timmy held on for dear life, stars exploding behind his eyelids. 


	4. Muffin

Armie watches the sunrise over Timmy’s shoulder. They’re cuddled up in bed, Timmy’s bed, warm and soft while Manhattan stirs around them. He has the duvet pushed down to his hips, overheated in the damp summer air. Timmy suffers no such affliction, cocooning himself even when it’s sweltering. Only his nose and eyes are visible, topped with a mess of fluffy curls. 

He hates the haircut, wouldn’t take his cap off until they were safely behind closed doors. 

“I like it,” Armie had said.

He had been met with a grumble, an awkward shrug, until he kissed Timmy on the soft patch of skin behind his ear.

He’s angelic like this, but Armie has missed him so much. “Wake up, little muffin,” he kisses his cheek, his voice low and quiet.

Timmy frowns, snuggles in further, “‘Mnot a muffin.”

Armie kisses him again, “My muffin. Sweetest of all the muffins.”

“Too early,” Timmy whines. 

He’s  _ cranky _ ! This is excellent. Armie makes his way carefully down the bed, making sure not to jostle Timmy and agitate him further. He’s soft in his boxers. Armie  _ nuzzles _ .

“Mmmmm,” a roll of hips. 

Armie kisses him there, his breath hot, teasing. He cups him gently, smiling when he feels him getting plump and heavy in his hand.

“Arrrmiieee,” he spreads his legs, barely awake, his response instinctual. 

Armie lowers his underwear, takes the head in his mouth. 

“Armie,” Timmy sighs. His hand finds the back of Armie’s neck, fingers carding through the hair at his nape, encouraging. 

Armie moans at the taste, the ache in his jaw, the stretch of his lips. He closes his eyes, takes his time, makes it  _ good _ . 

Timmy comes with a groan, watches Armie swallow with a sleepy grin.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”


	5. I Wasn't Sure About Camping But a Guy Roped Me Into It

“Ooooh! It’s nice!” Timmy was first in, excited to see their home for the next two nights. Armie held back, reluctant. He hated camping, but Tim had promised him that this was ‘glamorous camping,’ and so he had agreed. He’d expected a log cabin with a hot tub. This was a tipi. 

Still, he followed Timmy inside, curious in spite of himself. The floor of the tent was one big cushion, covered with blue throw pillows and lavender fleece blankets. It was spacious to a point, but he still felt a little claustrophobic when he tried to stand up.

Timmy stashed their bags in one corner and sat down, looking around with wide eyes and a wider mouth, “Yeah?!”

“It’s a little small,” Armie tilted his head to one side.

Timmy laughed, flopping onto his back, “I like it.”

“Where do we cook? Or clean ourselves?”

“There’s a fire pit further down the field, and I saw bathrooms when we were driving in,” Timmy sat up again, re-laced his sneakers, “I saw a store, too. I’m gonna check it out. You OK here?”

Armie’s scalp grazed the tent poles, “Bring beer.”

Timmy returned some time later, laden with drinks and snacks. He nearly tripped over Armie’s legs, sticking out through the flap of the tent. 

“What the hell?” He giggled, pushing his bags ahead of him as he crawled inside.

Armie lay on his back, cushions under his head, engrossed in the book balanced on his chest, “This is how I lay down. If you want me contained I’ll have to coil. Like a snail.”

Timmy settled on the cushions, legs crossed. He ripped open a bag of Cheetos and stuffed a few into his mouth, “Did you know that snails can only coil one way? So like, a left coiling snail can only make love to another left coiling snail?”

“Make love?” Armie smirked.

Timmy rolled his eyes, “Well, they don’t fuck, do they? They’re too slow. Anyway. Yeah. I think it’s kinda sweet.”

Armie smiled fondly at him, “You’d make a cute snail.”

“You’d be a big, handsome snail. With a shiny shell,” Timmy sucked Cheeto dust off his thumb, “like one of those African ones that likes warm water.”

Armie’s blinked, his eyes becoming irrationally damp, “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” Timmy beamed at him, offered him the bag.

“Ah, Tim,” Armie whimpered, eyes closed as he fought the urge to cry out. He held Timmy’s slim hips as he moved on top of him, riding him hard despite the limited space. The inside of the tent was getting all muggy, hot from their laboured breathing. So close. Just a little more. More.

Timmy stopped abruptly, “Did you hear that?”

Armie’s heart raced. He strained to listen. Footsteps on the grass, a twig snapping, an embarrassed cough.

“Shit!” Timmy lunged sideways so fast he almost fell off. Armie had to push up to stay inside him, “The light, Armie! The light!” He slammed his fist down on the button of their lantern, plunging the whole tent into darkness. 

“Oh fuck. Do you think?”

“That we were putting on shadow show?” Timmy scrubbed his hand through his hair, “Yeah. Fuck me.”

Armie sniggered, couldn’t help it. 

“Fuck off,” Timmy swatted at his thigh.

“Hey, you wanted to go camping, now,” he pulled Timmy’s arms down until he was laying on top of him, chest to chest, their lips almost touching, “finish what you started.”

Armie woke up stiff, and not in a good way. They’d fallen asleep spooning, but Timmy had turned at some point in the night and was now facing him, arms up against his chest, Armie holding him tightly. He smiled down at his sleepy bundle, tucked a curl behind his ear.

“Love you, Tim,” he spoke softly as he kissed Timmy’s forehead, “I have terrible backache,” another kiss, “it’s all your fault,” gentle hug, “and you will pay.”

Timmy stirred, frowned a little before snuggling his face into Armie’s chest.

They walked hand in hand to the shower block, avoiding the knowing looks of their glamping neighbours. 

“Join me?”

Armie shook his head, “Better not. Some kids might come in here or something.”

Timmy nodded. They chose stalls next to each other and climbed in, hanging their towels over the wooden doors. Timmy turned on the water and started to soap up, completely oblivious until he heard Armie sigh.

The shower head reached his nipples and no further. He glared at Timmy over the partition.

“Crouch? Maybe?” Timmy shrugged, trying to hold in his laughter.

“Next time, Timmy,  _ I  _ choose the vacation.”


	6. Jackson Pollock Sounds Like a Porn Star's Name

“Fuck, Tim, slow down,” Armie’s leg slips, old running shoe scrabbling for purchase on the plastic sheeting they put down to protect the floor. Timmy ignores him completely, throwing his head back and moaning loudly as he rides him hard, curls tumbling in his eyes as he bounces with enthusiasm. 

“Oh fuck,” Armie holds Timmy’s hips for dear life, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. His jeans are bunched around his knees, t shirt pushed up to his throat. Timmy slows long enough to tease his nipples into stiff little peaks and then speeds up again, naughty smirk quirking up his mouth.

He is, of course, completely naked. It’s something they like, have liked, since the start. A little power play, though Armie knows damn well who’s in control. They haven’t even started painting yet. Tim’s vast and varied colour scheme is currently set out in a series of trays near Armie’s feet, new rollers next to them, brushes next to those. But the excitement of buying their own place hasn’t really worn off yet, and Timmy came downstairs in fucking  _ overalls _ , so…

Timmy leans forward to give him a kiss, whimpers as he brushes their noses together, “So close, Armie.”

Armie takes that as his cue to reach between them and jerk Timmy’s cock. Timmy squirms and pants, arches his back. His muscles spasm the closer he gets, making him almost unbearably tight.

It’s pleasure and pain and too much and not enough. Armie kicks out, lost in sensation as his orgasm hits. His foot catches the lip of the paint tray, splattering Timmy with its contents just as Timmy splatters his belly with his release. He blinks at Armie, momentarily stunned, and then he’s shaking with laughter. 

They snuggle in the mess, stained and satiated, and Timmy paints a little heart on Armie’s chest.


	7. Hot Tub

“Hey cutie,” Armie looped his arm around Timmy’s shoulders, pulled him snugly into his side as he swigged his beer, smiling at various guests as they passed.

Timmy shuffled awkwardly. He could feel Liz’s eyes on them from across the room and her gaze was less than friendly. “Lemme go, Armie.”

Armie fake pouted as he loosened his grip, “What’s up? Aren’t you having fun?”

Timmy looked him over, from his naked chest to his red swim shorts, the v of his hip bones, the little trail of hair between them, those stupid flip flops that made aggravating squelching sounds as he padded from room to room. “Not really.”

Armie’s forehead creased in concern, “Hey, can I do anything? I really want you to enjoy this.”

“Why?” Timmy shrugged, “it’s not  _ my  _ new house.”

“Tim…”

A skinny blonde pushed past them, forcing Timmy up against Armie’s chest. Their eyes met on a shaky release of breath. Timmy looked away first, looping his fingers through the hem of his oversized yellow t shirt. 

“Let’s go outside,” Armie brushed his arm, “it’s getting crowded in here.”

The late evening sun was fading fast. Armie walked them down the full length of his enormous lawn, all the way to the hot tub at the bottom. The round wooden structure was partially obscured by rose bushes and other foliage. Someone had put some sort of bubble bath or oil in it, making it luminous and glittery in the twilight. Armie climbed up the ladder and lowered himself in. He offered Timmy his hand, “Take your shirt off.”

Timmy looked around nervously, “Someone’s gonna see.”

“See what? Get in here.”

Timmy knew Armie was a little drunk, knew it made him mouthy and reckless. He rubbed his forearm, debated walking back up the house and excusing himself to bed. Then he noticed Armie’s shorts bobbing in the water. Armie shot him a cheeky grin, raised his eyebrows in challenge. Sighing, Timmy slipped his shirt over his head, dropped it on the grass by his feet.

Armie held out his arms, smiling, and Timmy swam into them, let Armie hold him as they sank into the warm water. He nuzzled his face into Armie’s neck. Armie rubbed his back in long, slow strokes.

“Baby,” he murmured, “fuck, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you too,” Timmy wrapped his legs around his waist.

Their noses brushed before their lips met. Timmy was the first to deepen it, sliding his tongue against Armie’s as he tilted his head. Armie guided his hand down, pushing his erection into Timmy’s waiting grip.

Timmy pulled away, “No, Armie. She’s right inside! She’ll  _ see _ .”

“She’s playing hostess,” Armie scoffed, “she won’t come out here.”

“Armie!”

“Tim,” Armie’s tone was stern, “it’s fine. Everyone is inside, they’re not gonna come all the way down here, and if they do, we’ll hear them long before they see us. It’s fucking dark.”

“Yeah, but”

“I am so fucking hard for you,” Armie rolled his hips, “can you feel that, baby? Feel what you do to me without even trying?”

Timmy squeezed his dick, felt his own start to thicken out and bob in the water.

“Mmmm, yeah,” Armie kissed him again, “that’s it. We’re good,” he slid his hands into Timmy’s shorts, kneading his cheeks with both hands. He brushed a fingertip over Timmy’s furled entrance. Timmy dragged his mouth away.

“Armie!”

“Yes?” Armie teased him, his finger moving in small, tight circles.

“Armie, we can’t,” he was fully hard, breath already coming in little pants, “we’re gonna get caught...Oh!”

Armie pushed his finger all the way inside, crooking it to tickle Timmy’s prostate. Timmy fell into him, arms wrapped around his neck as he whimpered and squirmed. Armie pulled his finger out, dragged Timmy’s shorts down his legs. He leaned over to slam his fist on a button at the side of the pool. Bubbles floated up around them. 

“Nice, right?”

Timmy devoured his mouth, their hands all over each other in the swirling water. He turned around with a naughty smirk and knelt on the plastic seating, facing away from Armie and up towards the house. 

“Good boy,” Armie chuckled, moving into position behind him.

Timmy rested his head on his crossed arms, occasionally biting into his soft flesh while Armie played with his ass, fingers thick and strong, loving him and stretching him in ways he hadn’t felt in far too long. He ached for his cock, so grateful for the slick water, the soothing throb of the jets.

Armie held him open, stretching his hole wide as he pushed in. Timmy stifled a moan, angling his hips to get Armie just right inside him, to drag out the delicious burn until it left him shaking. Armie held him close against his body, one arm around his middle, the other across his chest. 

“Do you like this.”

Timmy nodded, sighed.

Armie kissed his nape, “Good. I want my baby happy.”

“Am I your baby?” He felt the tears sting his throat, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Armie moved faster, harder.

“Armie! You down there?!”

“Shit,” Armie swore under his breath. He pulled out of Timmy fast enough to make him yelp, thrashed around in the water for his shorts. “Put your trunks back on! Fuck!” 

Timmy blinked stupidly, more than a little dazed. Armie dressed himself and climbed out, water sloshing everywhere, “I’m here! I was just showing Timmy the pool.”

Timmy heard him running up the grass, heard Liz giggling as he gave her a wet, sloppy kiss. He hugged himself, knees drawn up tightly against his chest, and turned off the bubbles. 

  
  



	8. Braid

Armie was careful to close the door quietly. Their new apartment was all high ceilings and creaky floorboards, and he’d learned to his chagrin that the slightest noise carried. Timmy had waited up for him, legs tucked under himself on the edge of the sofa, head propped on one arm, fighting to stay awake. 

“Hey,” he offered Armie a sleepy smile. 

“Hi,” Armie leaned down to kiss him, “how did it go?”

“Fine. We had a few tears at bedtime, but I think that’s just cos it’s all new.”

Armie nodded, “Is she asleep now?”

Timmy sat up, eyebrows creasing in a worried frown. He looked down the hallway, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

His concern was adorable. Armie moved closer, wound an arm around his shoulders. Timmy snuggled into him, tilting his head to nuzzle Armie’s jaw. Something silver glinted in his hair. Armie pulled back slightly.

“Did she,” he tried not to laugh, “did she do your hair, Tim?”

Timmy felt the back of his head, clumsy fingers pulling a few curls loose from the bun Harper had styled. He blushed a little, “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”

“I think she braided it, too,” Armie traced a little plait down the side of Timmy’s head, "looks good."

“I have better hair than you,” Timmy yawned, “Hops told me. And she knows about these things.”

“I’m sure she does,” Armie stroked his nape, massaged his neck and shoulder. They kissed again, slow, languid, a need for  _ more  _ just starting to simmer under the surface.

"You're amazing with her," Armie cupped his face, traced his cheekbones with his thumbs, “I love you so much.”

Timmy hummed happily, closing his eyes, “How much?”

“Come to bed with me. I’ll show you.”

Timmy started to untie the bun, but Armie stopped him. “No,” he tucked a stray curl behind his ear, “leave it in.”


	9. Nothing

_ What do you wear in bed? _

_ Nothing. _

Armie didn’t know until Timmy came to stay with them. Normally he had better manners, but things with Tim were  _ different,  _ somehow. He wasn’t a guest in Armie’s house. He was family, home for the summer and guzzling down six malts a day. Armie smiled at the huge breakfast he’d made; eggs, bacon, fruit and pancakes (and orange juice, naturally).

The door was slightly ajar so he nudged it with his shoulder, didn’t think to knock. 

“Morning, I made…” The words died in his throat. 

Timmy was still fast asleep, laying half on his side with the blankets bunched up next to him, cuddling them like a lover, his face buried between the pillows. His cheek was flushed from the humid air, sticky hair curling at his nape. He was completely naked.

Armie swallowed, the tray rattling as his hand shook. He wanted to look away, knew that he  _ should _ look away, and yet he stayed frozen to the spot, eyes roaming miles of pale, creamy skin that just begged to be kissed, nuzzled, marked. 

Timmy snuffled in his sleep, frowning as he stretched to get comfy, spread his legs a little wider. 

His peachy little butt looked practically edible. Armie’s mouth filled with saliva as he stared at the plump swell of his balls, his thick, soft cock pressed down at an awkward angle. He wanted to roll him over and take it in his mouth, suck it until Timmy was wide awake and straining, seconds away from shooting his load all over his face. 

A soft moan had Armie backing out of the room as quickly as possible, heart hammering against his ribs. When the door was closed he knocked loudly.

“Tim! You up?!”

“Huh? Just a sec,” Timmy called back, his voice muffled and deeper with sleep.

When Armie entered for the second time, Tim was wearing sweats and a t shirt, sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed. 

“Oh man! This is amazing, thank you,” he dug into the feast with gusto, smiling and nodding, his hair wild and bouncy.

“No problem. Bring the plate down when you’re done.”

Armie fled to the bathroom, splashed cold water on his burning face. If nothing else, it explained why Tim had taken so long to answer the door to his Crema apartment. He’d always looked dishevelled in the morning. Rumpled. Armie gave his cock a quick squeeze through his shorts. It was gonna be a long week.

  
  


  
  



	10. One Hot Night

“You’re still awake,” Armie’s brow creased in concern. His voice was low, quiet in the damp stillness of their bedroom. He gently brushed sticky curls away from Timmy’s forehead.

Timmy sighed as he turned over, “Can’t sleep,” he mumbled, not opening his eyes, “‘s too hot.”

Armie nodded in sympathy. He entwined Timmy’s fingers with his own, brought the back of his hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Mmmm,” the corner of Timmy’s mouth quirked in a sleepy smile. 

Armie lifted Timmy’s leg, draped it over his hip. Their lips found each other in the dark as Timmy snuggled closer. 

“Fuuuuck,” he pulled away a few moments later, finally opening his eyes, “I want to, I’m just”

“Too hot?” 

Timmy blinked up at him, flushed and sheepish, “Yeah.” He trailed two fingers across Armie’s belly, “love you.”

“Love  _ you _ ,” Armie rubbed his back, “shall I get you some ice?”

“Yes please.”

Armie groaned as he stood in front of the open refrigerator, the cool air caressing his naked body. When the motor started to complain, he filled a glass with ice cubes and carried it back to the bedroom. 

Timmy lay on his stomach, legs open, arms under the pillow. Armie placed the glass on the floor and climbed back into bed. 

“I got your ice,” he kissed Timmy’s shoulder. 

Timmy hummed in response, shifting up to give Armie more room. Armie took a piece of ice from the glass, smoothing it between his fingers to melt it a little. He let a few droplets fall before he brought the cube down to trace the bumps of Timmy’s spine. Timmy hissed at the initial contact, dissolving into happy sighs the more Armie played, drawing patterns on his overheated skin.

One cube slipped from Armie’s fingers, slid to the dimples at the base of Timmy’s spine. He arched up, gasping as the icy water trickled between his cheeks. 

“Yeah?” Armie raised an eyebrow, “Do you like that?”

Timmy moaned, burying his face in the pillow with a nod. Intrigued, Armie moved lower. He settled on his front between Timmy’s parted thighs, spreading him open with his finger and thumb. The first touch made Timmy cry out, but he pushed back into it rather than pulling away. Armie circled his hole, slowly, soothing the burn of the ice with the heat of his tongue.

Timmy lifted up onto his knees, his cock thick and full between his legs. He was already leaking. Armie teased his  perineum before nuzzling his balls, sucking on them until they pulled up tight.

He ran the ice over Timmy’s hole again, fucked him with his tongue. Timmy whimpered and whined, bit the pillow, arched back into Armie’s face. 

The icecube had melted down to almost nothing. Armie pushed the last sliver into Timmy’s ass, moaning as he watched it disappear inside his tight pucker. He followed it with his finger, two fingers, his tongue. Timmy came hard, shouting Armie’s name, cock twitching as his release soaked the sheets. 

He climbed off the bed, legs trembling, swiped the lube from the drawer and grabbed Armie’s hand.

“Where are we going?” Armie chuckled, smiling at his determined expression. 

“To fuck in the hall,” Timmy didn’t turn round as he dragged Armie off the bed, “it’s cooler out there.”


	11. Piano Lessons

Timmy was mesmerising. Armie watched his slender fingers caress the piano keys with almost effortless grace, closing his eyes as the music soaked into his entire being. He stood quietly just inside the doorway, not making himself known, not yet. 

“Uuuugh!” Timmy stopped abruptly, poked the keys with an angry sigh. 

“‘Sup?” Armie walked over to him, his bare feet cold on the concrete floor.

“I can’t get the fucking Bach to work,” Timmy scowled at his sheet music.

“Sounded fine to me.”

Timmy snorted.

“Want some help?” Armie didn’t give him time to respond. He flopped down onto the stool behind Timmy, shoving him forwards as he settled his legs into a comfortable position either side of Timmy’s thighs.

Timmy giggled, throwing Armie a look, “Do you want me to give you a lapdance while I play, or…?”

“There’s room, you ass. Scoot,” he poked Timmy under his ribs.

Timmy shuffled forwards, curling up to defend against further pokes. He was blushing. Armie massaged his shoulders, ran his hands down his arms until they were pressed close together, and his hands were covering Timmy’s. 

“Now, let’s see,” his voice was low, close to Timmy’s ear. He moved his hands to the correct keys, “start from here.”

He let Timmy take the lead, his hands there as a guide only, losing himself in each movement of delicate bone under feather soft skin. This time, Timmy played impeccably. He slid his foot on top of Armie’s, ran his big toe over the curve of Armie’s arch. 

The music stopped.

Timmy turned slightly, tilted his head until he was so close he was slipping out of focus. Kissing him was as natural as breathing. Armie wound an arm around his waist, palm covering Timmy’s stomach as he pushed his tongue into his mouth, swallowing down his little whimpers, happy sighs. 

They smiled at each other. Armie hugged him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.

“Play it again, would ya?”


	12. "Fuck 'Em"

The crumpled leather couch was cold when Armie sat down. He lifted his feet from the floor and sat cross-legged, staring out at the waving branches, the fat droplets of rain that ran down the window behind him. He’d always liked the rain. He leaned over and opened the window a crack, amplifying the pitter patter until it filled the room.

It was early, and his terrycloth robe offered little protection from the chill, but it was peaceful, finally. 

“There will be hell to pay,” Timmy had sighed, sounding like a person twenty years older than himself.

“Yeah, well. Fuck it.”

That had been Armie’s reaction to everything of late. Fuck it. Fuck them. Fuck you. He knew it didn’t come from a good place, but he was exhausted. Sometimes ‘fuck it’ was the best way of dealing with things. 

He felt Timmy’s presence before he heard his feet on the laminate. Boxers, Armie’s sweater, chunky socks. The blanket from the bed dragged behind him. 

“Time is it?” He yawned, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders.

“Early. Go back to sleep.”

“Nah. Missed you,” He gave Armie a quick kiss before settling next to him on the couch. 

Armie shifted so that Timmy could sit between his thighs. The blanket was big enough to cover them both, still warm from Timmy’s body. He hugged him round his middle, buried his nose in his hair.

“Rain sounds nice,” Timmy said quietly, fingers trailing over the veins in Armie’s hand.

“Mmm,” Armie kissed his neck, smiled at the goosebumps that prickled down Timmy’s arms. 

“Reminds me of the rain in”

“Yeah. That storm the second week in.”

“When we couldn’t film all day, and we watched those stupid boxing videos,” Timmy giggled at the memory, “I think I tried to spar with you.”

“You did. You failed, of course, but it was pretty cute.”

Timmy pinched his knee, “I was trying to impress you. Asshole.”

“I know,” Armie nuzzled him again, “that’s why it was cute.”

They were quiet for awhile, just the rain, their shared heartbeats.

“I miss it.”

“I know. So do I.”

“I think all of this,” Timmy gestured vaguely, “has really hammered it home, y’know? No pun intended,” he added, not really laughing. 

“You should’ve won, Tim,” Armie said simply. 

“Have to be nominated to win,” Tim smiled over his shoulder, but his eyes were already brimming over.

Armie hugged him tighter. “Yeah, well. Fuck ‘em.”


End file.
